April 1, 1975
April Fools Day. Wish I was still in bed, but that wish is not to be granted.
Business still slow at Hook.
Read to Joe all evening and finished “The Fellowship of the Ring.” The Two Towers comes next. Increased my afghan by only one row of new stitches.
The daffodils and hyacinths are blooming in the porch planter. They look so lovely, and spring timey.
April 3, 1975
Thursday finally. Didn’t go to bed until after 12—frustrating evening. Began work on the afghan and found I was 3 stitches short! Had to unravel 50 rows (a hundred really since each row is a double line) to catch the error! Over half of all that work down the drain!
Then big sister Phyllis called to scold me for being distant and not visiting often enough.
Tuesday, April 8, 1975
Answered only one letter so still have that particular sword poised over my shrinking neck.
Ev’s son very sick with mumps so spent a whole afternoon with her, trying to help where I could.
Finished the center section background of the afghan and began a side panel last night. Read to Joey for about an hour. Nushka is in love with a bitch on River Road and broke his chain again. Pete brought him home in the pickup. I bathed the smelly creature last night after work but am fearful he will have rolled in another dead fish or worse—such aggravation!
April 10, 1975
Sunshine at 9:15 a.m. I ought to be upstairs readying for work, but will take time to write a few more lines. Took Nush out on a leash yesterday between the end of work and PJ’s 5 o’clock ballgame. (They lost, though PJ hit the only RBI with a double). Ran Nush up across the bridge into the woods and saw the trilliums were in bloom! As were drifts of blue gorse—how lovely and pure their petals are—without blemish, their texture crisp, firm, and sharp-edged. It seems they cannot fade, ever.
In bed last night, I thought of Mama. I should be less surprised to “see” her than to “hear” her! When I brought her to mind, I could almost hear her voice, and the suddenness of it, the familiar timbre and inflections brought her to physical life so acutely that I was shaken. Perhaps we are so visually oriented and accustomed to photographic likenesses that the faces of our dear ones become unreal and one-dimensional. But the voice, the sound of them, and the heart is riven as if by earthquake!
April 12, 1975
Saturday—a blue and gold day! Must hurry as I’m to meet Phyllis in Portland. Intend to buy tapestry yarn to do the pattern on the afghan and this particular shop closes at noon today! Beautiful weather yesterday. The sun brought out the perfume of the hyacinths while I was occupied entirely in household chores.

April 24, 1975
Rain still falling so Opening Week-End will be wet as tradition demands.
Joey says a new girl came to school yesterday and he “almost died”—she is the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. He washed his hair this morning and donned white cords and a nice shirt to begin his campaign. The fact she’s an 8th grader doesn’t intimidate him!
Once again my trip to Salt Lake hangs in the breeze of financial fortunes. But! A wild currant is in rosy-red bloom—a seedling that’s come up by the house among the rhododendrons. Hurrah!
Making good progress on the afghan. Still reading The Trilogy aloud—now to both Joe and Paige! For myself, Turgenev’s FATHERS AND SONS, and quite enjoying it, as I do most Russian writers. Their descriptions are full of fascinating details. Their work is like needlepoint compared to American quilt making.

Published in: on February 10, 2019 at 11:59 am  Comments (6)  

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6 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I wonder if going back through journals from your life has been purifying, liberating?

    • It’s been a mixture, Rose. There are the good things, memories of places and people seemingly left behind over the years are resurrected. Then there’s the rough ones I’m glad to leave behind. Some nights I toss and turn, remembering, not always happily. Liberation? Purifying? It seems I must continue my journey to find the answer.

  2. For us, it’s been so wonderful to see the events (external and internal) that make you the woman we love today.
    Hugs and thanks for sharing.

    • Your kind words bring me hope and encouragement as the journey continues. Thank you!

  3. I have enjoyed this walk into your history. It also triggers my memory of happenings then. Thank you.

    • Thank you, Recie. It has certainly has triggered my memory as well. Sometimes it recalls that old phrase, “Had I known then what I know now!” But that’s not how life works, is it? Again, thank you for reading and commenting.

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